The young woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured in so frail a vessel.

Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed like great white wings.

The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed to be flying in the air.
Night came.

The moon was entering her first quarter, and her insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon.
Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the heavens.
The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed she was going, the least shock would shatter the gallant little craft.
Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation.

He kept apart from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr.Fogg's taciturn tastes; besides, he did not quite like to talk to the man whose favours he had accepted.